Rolling her to her back, he fit himself into the warm cradle between her legs, eliciting another of those little noises as she locked her ankles behind his back. He rocked against her once, twice, his need growing until he thought he might burst.
She met each of his moves with one of her own, and on the third he found his mark, inching slowly inside her tight heat.
Like coming home to a place created just for him, in this moment, he feared he’d never find its equal again in this life.
Her hips lifted, grinding against his pelvis, and he dropped his hands to those lovely hips, holding them still while he prayed he could last long enough to satisfy them both.
Slowly, very slowly, he eased himself almost all the way out before slowly sliding back in again.
By the Fates! Swiving had never felt like this before.
“Yes. Oh yes,” Abby breathed the words into his ear, urging him on with the movement of her hips against his. “Yes. . .No!” Her hands swept from his neck to his chest, pushing against him. “Oh my God! This is real. It’s not the dream at all. This is actually happening. You have to stop. You have to stop this right now!”
Stop? What was thisstopshe spoke of?
His mind blanked and his entire body shuddered as he ceased all motion, still buried just inside her warm sheath.
“We can’t do this. Wecannotbe doing this! Get off me!”
Abby wiggled beneath him and he tightened his grip on her hips, pinning her to the bed below him. Much more of that from her and it would be too late to stop.
“Be still, woman,” he ordered, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “I’ll do as you ask, but dinna you move again. Give me but a moment to collect myself.”
He rested his head against her breast, fighting to regain command of himself as he listened to her heart beat a furious tattoo under his ear. At last, his control somewhat returned, he withdrew, rolling off her and onto his back. Eyes closed, he concentrated on an intricate series of sword work patterns he’d learned in Wyddecol and the footwork involved in each thrust and parry.
Thrust. He groaned and tried once again to clear his mind.
“I know this place.” Abby’s voice came from just above him in a breathless whisper. “I’ve seen it a hundred times in my dreams. Where are we? How did we get here?”
When he opened his eyes, a dull gray light filtered through the room, emanating from the early morning sun shining through a crack in the wooden shutters high up on the wall. He knew the place as well.
“This is my own bedchamber.”
As soon as he could move again, he’d have to deal with all this. Dun Ard was not where the Magic was supposed to take them, though why he should have expected the Magic to do as he wanted this time was beyond him. His intent had been that she should besent to the safety of her own home even as he should have found himself in the woods near Methven. He had certainly not planned on bringing Abby back through time with him, no more than he’d planned on bedding her.
So much for his plans.
He’d feared there could be a problem when he’d realized the words she’d said aloud, but by then, it was too late. The Magic had already been invoked.
“You’ve sent us to my home, Abby. To Dun Ard.”
“As if. Don’t you even try that line on me. I know for a fact that Dun Ard is not your home. I was there. I went there looking for you. Those people had never even heard of you.” Abby sat next to him, her face determinedly turned away from him, a woolen coverlet pulled up to her chin. “How did we get here?” she demanded again, twitching nervously at the cover. “And what the hell did you do with my clothes?”
“What didIdo?” He pushed himself up to sit, shaking his head at how wrong everything had gone. “It’s as I told you. It’s you what did the wishing, lass. You who said the words to send us here. I should be asking whatyoudid withmyclothes. Again.”
It was her words that had directed the Magic to put them here, together, so very far from where they both needed to be, but the fault was all his. He should have realized the danger and told her exactly what to say.
Rising from the bed, he made his way to the fireplace and squatted beside it. The fire had been laid at the ready as it always was. All he had to do was strike the tender and start the flames to bring some warmth to the chamber.
“Right. Like you expect me to believe I could simply wish us out of that cave? That’s about as truthful as Dun Ard being your home.”
Flames licked up over the wood and he rose to his feet, facing the bed.
“First, if you canna accept that it’s yer wishing that sent us here, then howdoyou explain it? And, for the record, Dun Ardismy home. Here. Now. In 1306, no in yer time.” Assuming the blasted Magic had at least transported them to the proper time. He resented her implication that he’d lied about his home, though as he thought about it, he did find some satisfaction in the idea that she’d gone there in her own time searching for him. “You looked for me there, did you?”
“Wait. Let’s just back this up for a second. Did you say 1306? That’s crazy. It’s not possible.” She turned to face him, immediately dropping her eyes to her lap. “Could you please put something on? I can’t think withthat,” she waved her hand in his general direction, “when it’s like that.”
He looked down to where she’d pointed and frowned. His swollen manhood was only now beginning to return to normal.
